Of Peace, Security, and Warmth
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Sometimes it is the small things in life, such as a cuddle, in which peace, security, and warmth can be found. Movieverse.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

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Of Peace, Security, and Warmth

The only reason Bilbo learns about it is because of how he is barely able to get any sleep during the beginning of the company's journey, unaccustomed to sleeping outside in the cold on the hard ground, surrounded by loud snores.

Propping himself up on his elbows, disgruntled, he peers about at the dwarves (and lone wizard) blissfully sleeping. Movement catches Bilbo's attention, and he focuses on the bald dwarf...Dwalin. The huge dwarf shifts, grunting. In the low starlight, the hobbit sees Dwalin blink as he turns his head to the left. In a flash his arm darts out and pulls Nori to him. The hobbit's jaw drops. Staring, he watches in fascination as Dwalin cuddles Nori, who in turn abruptly awakes; the warrior seems oblivious to the dwarves around them readjusting their positions. Sighing, the large dwarf snuggles closer to his companion and grows still. Nori glares at Dwalin, looking very annoyed. But to Bilbo's surprise he does not grumble or attempt to free himself, instead simply closing his eyes. Soon both Nori's and Dwalin's snores fills the air. Shaking his head in disbelief, Bilbo lies back down, shivering.

And that is the same scene Bilbo witnesses night after night: Dwalin not falling asleep until he snuggles with one of his companions, his features relaxed and peaceful, so different from his normally stern, fierce expression. (_Similar to a little hobbit tucked in bed with a teddy bea_r, the Halfling once thinks with a smile.)

The dwarves deal with it each in their own way: from Balin's indulging, fond smile before falling right back to sleep; Bofur appearing tickled at being on the receiving end of Dwalin's antics; Oin's grumpier in the morning after serving as the dwarf's impromptu pillow; to _Thorin_ who is cuddled at least thrice and takes it all in stride, not protesting, getting into a more comfortable position, face majestic as always. No one objects at their disrupted slumber; nor do any brings it up even when some nights Fili, Kili, or Ori purposely sets up their bedroll right beside Dwalin (with extra loud sighs by the princes) to save the minutes it will take for him to shift closer to whatever dwarf is near, grab and cuddle him, and finally fall asleep. Bilbo takes it all in curiously and quietly.

It is some weeks later when Balin falls into step with Bilbo late one afternoon.

"My brother always has trouble sleeping unless he has someone to cuddle with," he explains in a low voice. "In his youth, he slept with a teddy bear long after most dwarf children gave up such things. He is an imposing fighter, yet he has a gentle heart. And so now he sleeps best when snuggling with one of our companions."

"Oh!" Bilbo mulls over this information, aware of how personal it is, of how dwarves fiercely guard their privacy. "I—thank you. If I caused offense," his tone grows worried, "I apolo—"

"No, laddie," Balin assures with a smile and wink. "You are part of the company. And I've come to learn hobbits can be quite curious creatures."

The Halfling flushes, realizing his late-night observations have not gone unnoticed. He stares at the ground, mindful of his footing. "I'm sorry." The warm clasp on his shoulder brings his gaze back up to the white-haired dwarf.

"It was kind of you not to comment on it. You have my gratitude." And with a deep nod of his head along with a wide smile, Balin leaves a blushing Bilbo to catch up with his brother.

Really, Bilbo ought to suspect it is only a matter time before it is his turn. But he doesn't. Thus, it is a huge shock three nights later when, after tossing and turning for seemingly the thousandth time, so exhausted yet the biting cold keeps sleep at bay, a massive arm loops around the hobbit's waist and draws him the last few inches into a solid warm chest. Yelping, Bilbo struggles to lean back from the large and surprisingly soft beard, feeling caught in a furnace; it is the glimpse of tattoos on the strong arm that makes the hobbit go still, eyes widening as he is manhandled into a position to Dwalin's satisfaction. The Baggins side in him feels quite affronted when there is a drowsy whisper into his curls of "...Teddy bear." _Indeed!_ Bilbo tries to push against the dwarf's chest, but is only hugged closer. Embarrassed and bewildered, the Halfling eventually drifts off.

He wakes up later than usual the next morning, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he rises to a sitting position, memories of the previous night blurry. His brows furrow in confusion when he sees Dwalin a few away with his back to the hobbit, facing Ori, Kili, and Fili who are all frowning up at their friend.

"—should be more considerate, Dwalin," Ori wags a scolding finger at the warrior.

"He is the smallest of us all!" Kili pipes up, arms crossed over his chest.

"You could have hurt him," Fili murmurs worriedly.

The Halfling stares in amazement at the sight of the lads scolding Dwalin. Then he jolts when all four dwarves look at him, comprehending belatedly _he_ is the topic of their conversation. His mortification falters, though, as he takes in Dwalin's guilty and ashamed expression. Something in his stomach coils, and he scrambles to his feet.

"It is okay," he blurts, rushing forward several steps. While meant to reassure all of them, his focus is on the tall dwarf. "It is okay."

And it is true, he suddenly realizes. _Despite_ the whole thing being a shock, awkward, simply not a hobbit's way of doing things. The fur of Dwalin's jacket had been soft. Trapped in the dwarf's arms, it was the coziest Bilbo had been since leaving his home. And he had slept deeply and peacefully.

Offering a shy smile to the warrior, Bilbo said, "No harm was done. I actually slept quite well, thank you."

That seems to mollify Dwalin and reassure the lads (though the latter keep a watchful eye on their burglar for the next couple days).

After that, if Bilbo's bedroll tends to be closer than usual to Dwalin's more often than not, and it starts becoming a common thing for the company to wake up to discover their friend snuggling with their burglar, with Bilbo's head tucked under Dwalin's chin, his arms wrapped protectively around the smaller creature, no one mentions it. And if sometimes Bilbo wakes in the middle of the night to the warrior's faint whimpers, and he gently kisses Dwalin's tear-stained cheeks while whispering a lullaby (as he used to do with his young cousins) until the dwarf's slumber grows peaceful once more, he does not comment on it. (Nor does Balin, his own eyes moist, awed by the little creature's ability to soothe his brother, something none of the others managed.) And Bilbo feels warmer than he has in a long time.

THE END


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